


greet me with goodbye

by orphan_account



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Choking, Fist Fights, M/M, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Shikamaru and Sasuke have a long standing rivalry in their scrappy fight club. They also have a long standing arrangement for winding down post fight.
Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	greet me with goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> starting off the crusade to fill this tag teehee

Shikamaru breaks Sasuke’s nose fifteen seconds into their fight. White hot pain drills into his skull as blood slicks down his mouth and chin. Shikamaru darts out of range and stands at the far side of the ring, knuckles red with Sasuke’s blood. He grins and rocks on the balls of his sheet, guarding his jaw lazily. Sasuke’s ears are still ringing as he forces his hands up in front of his face. After the initial gush, the bleeding slows to a trickle. “Fuckin’ bitch,” he spits on the ground and rolls his shoulders.

Shikamaru takes shuffling steps as the loose circle around them jeers. “Tactical strike, eh?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “You’re full of shit.” Shikamaru’s smirk doesn’t flag and another glob of blood drips down Sasuke’s chin. He closes the distance between them in a single wide stride and breaks through Shikamaru’s guard. It’s pathetically easy to bat his fists away and grab the back of his neck. Shikamaru chokes as Sasuke jerks his knee up into his belly. Once, and Shikamaru draws angry lines down Sasuke’s biceps. Twice, and he manages to punch Sasuke in the stomach. Three times, and Shikamaru finally wrenches himself out of Sasuke’s hold. He staggers away while clutching his stomach. 

“If I have internal bleeding, you’re paying my fucking medical bills.” Shikamaru coughs again, but no blood comes up.

Sasuke doesn’t bother to respond. His face still throbs with an incessant, sharp pain and he scrubs impatiently at the blood dripping sluggishly from his chin. He drops low with his hands around his face. Shikamaru mirrors him. The pain focuses him, gaze sharp and calculating. It helps him catch the way Shikamaru’s stare shifts with his weight. The fists around his face twitch and Sasuke clicks his tongue. “C’mon, jackass. Hit me already.” Shikamaru ignores him, but his hands twitch again.

Shikamaru leaps forward. Sasuke blocks his right hand, but isn’t fast enough to avoid the jab to his stomach. He swallows the pained grunt and throws his entire body weight into his elbow. It connects with Shikamaru’s jaw with a thundering crack. Shikamaru staggers back, but immediately twists and throws another hook into Sasuke’s ribs. He bodies the shot and throws a punch at Shikamaru’s jaw. He catches empty air as Shikamaru ducks and then twists away from Sasuke’s waiting knee. 

They find themselves at opposite sides of their makeshift ring again. Sasuke can feel his belly and chest beginning to bruise, but the blood from his nose is finally dry. Shikamaru doesn’t seem to be much better, white singlet translucent with sweat as pain makes deep lines between his brows.

Pride balloons in Sasuke’s chest. “Something wrong, Shika? You seem worried.”

Shikamaru scowls and a crazy grin pulls at Sasuke’s lips. Dopamine rolls through him in waves, hot like an orgasm as he watches Shikamaru try to pull strategy out of his ass. He rolls his shoulders, keeping his muscles warm and loose. 

“Naruto!” Shikamaru shouts. Their friend appears from the crowd a few moments later. He’s slightly bloodied from an earlier fight with Sakura, but still signed up to handle their bets for the rest of the night. “How many matches has Sasuke-kun won against me?” Shikamaru’s head is tilted to the side, eyes half lidded as he watches Sasuke.

Naruto shuffles through a few pieces of paper. “Hah, five.”

Sasuke’s already scowling, his earlier rush of bloodlust replaced by anger. “And how many have I won against him?”

It takes a little longer for Naruto to find that answer. “Six.”

Sasuke’s teeth clench as Shikamaru laughs and gives a little shrug. “Seems like I’m not the one who should be worried, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke kicks him in the sternum. It knocks the shit eating grin off his face as he’s flung off his feet. He tumbles through the crowd, their cheering deafening as Sasuke pins Shikamaru to the concrete. He grabs the front of his shirt, lifting him from the ground to punch him in the face. His hand explodes with pain and amplifies the lingering ache in his skull. It’s well worth it for the satisfaction of Shikamaru’s skull bouncing off the ground. He bucks his hips, but Sasuke’s knees tighten around his ribs. “You’re gonna have to try a little harder than that.” He punches him again, biting the inside of his cheek through the agony.

The next time he jerks Shikamaru up, he feels the tanktop start to rip. He lands a final punch to Shikamaru’s face, giving him a matching pair of black eyes before dropping him back to the ground. He sprawls out over the pavement, the fight seemingly drained out of him as he twists to spit.

He gasps for air for a moment longer, before his gaze returns to Sasuke. “Thanks for the concussion, asshole.” His voice is thick with pain. 

Sasuke’s blood burns hot in his veins, but he ignores it. He presses his forearm over Shikamaru’s throat, easing his weight onto his trachea. “Tap out.”

Shikamaru rolls his eyes, even as his chest flutters frantically. Behind the bruising, his face begins to go a worrying shade of red and Sasuke can’t help but stare. Shikamaru bucks his hips again, and still doesn’t manage to unseat Sasuke. He counts to fifteen, slowly, before easing the weight off Shikamaru’s throat. 

The temperature of the room changes. Wolf whistles break out from their friends and Sasuke hopes he isn’t blushing. Shikamaru stares up at him hazily and Sasuke knows he feels that same heat. “Tap out,” he demands again. He shoves a little harder on Shikamaru’s throat and suddenly realizes how close their faces are. 

Shikamaru grins and Sasuke can see blood crusted in the corners of his mouth. He raises his hand and taps Sasuke’s hip once. He sits up and eases off of Shikamaru’s throat. He’s still smirking when he says, “Gotta maintain our draw right?”

Sasuke stands and Naruto declares him the winner, before starting to distribute bets. Sasuke turns away from Shikamaru’s sprawled out body without helping him up. It’s a quick enough walk to his apartment to not bring a change of clothes, but he still has a bag tucked away in the corner of their grimy parking structure. He digs around in it until he finds a bottle of water. He chugs half of it and then bends over to try and scrub the blood off his face. He wipes his face with the back of his hand and glances toward the exit. Shikamaru’s lingering there. He doesn’t have a bag and he still looks a mess with bruises beginning to purple all over his skin.

Sasuke hefts his bag over his shoulder and walks toward him. Shikamaru lights a cigarette and finally returns his stare as he takes the first drag. Chills run down Sasuke’s arms and he resolutely ignores them as he descends the stairs. A twin pair of footsteps follow him out of the parking lot and through all the normal shortcuts to his apartment. The adrenaline wears off somewhere along the way to his place and the pain makes itself well known. He pushes into the lobby of his building and doesn’t bother to hold the door for Shikamaru. They take the stairs and make it to his apartment in record time. 

Shikamaru makes his presence known as Sasuke unlocks the door, his body heat radiating into Sasuke’s back as he finally pushes into his apartment. They reconnect with Sasuke’s hand in the front of Shikamaru’s shirt and their eyes lock as he pushes Shikamaru back into the door. Somewhere along the walk, Shikamaru finished the cigarette, but Sasuke can still taste smoke in his mouth when he smashes their lips together. His nose throbs, but the pain is vague and shapeless as his eyes fall shut. Shikamaru doesn’t seem to be interested in playing around either, his hands heavy on Sasuke’s hips as his tongue jams past his teeth.

Its messy, saliva mixing and dripping down Sasuke’s chin as he tears Shikamaru’s hair from his dumb ponytail and feels for the lock on his door. His fingers begin to stiffen up and ache more acutely. He tries to flex them on the back of Shikamaru’s head, mouth falling slack as he attempts to tell if any of them are broken. It seems like his middle finger can’t bend correctly. Shikamaru’s hands shift from his hips to press up the back of his shirt, and the state of his knuckles are forgotten as he hitches his thigh over Shikamaru’s hips and shoves him back into the door. Shikamaru’s already hard in his sweats. Sweet arrogance slides over Sasuke’s tongue as he squeezes the back of Shikamaru’s neck.

Sasuke breaks the kiss, eyes cracking open wide enough to see the flush that rides high on Shikamaru’s cheekbones. He smirks, even while knowing his face is just as hot. Shikamaru lets him enjoy the little victory, hands skating up his sides and collecting sweat on his palms before he cups the curves of Sasuke’s ribs. He swallows the bittersweet pain and instead hooks his fingers into Shikamaru’s pants. He might be a bastard, but he never turns down a blow job. He eases his hands out of Sasuke’s shirt and leans back against the door.

Sasuke takes that as his cue and drops to his knees. He isn’t expecting the bright agony that crackles over his nerves. A noise knocks from between the clench of his teeth, but he ignores it and drags Shikamaru’s pants and briefs off in one go. His fingers circle Shikamaru’s cock as he leans in to ease him into his mouth. He gets distracted from the silky, salt glide of his cock over his tongue as he notices his middle finger not bending correctly. He goes cross eyed as he tries to force it to bend and a hot pain burns up his arm. Shikamaru’s palm presses into his forehead and suddenly Sasuke remembers that the cock he’s trying to suck is connected to a person. A fairly insufferable one at that. 

Indignation balloons in Sasuke’s chest as he pulls off. “What are you doing?” The words weigh too heavy on the atmosphere between them.

Shikamaru’s chin is on his collarbones as he stares down the length of his body at Sasuke. His eyebrows are pinched together, eyes jittering around like they do when they fight. Sasuke’s hand squeezes tight around his cock and his fingers struggle to keep the circle, pain flaring through the delicate bones of his hand. The soft pout of his mouth solidifies into an annoyed grimace. “Your finger is broken.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I tried to put my fist through your face.”

Shikamaru doesn’t rise to the bait. His hand hasn’t moved from Sasuke’s forehead. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Sasuke might as well have been shot with how fast he recoils from Shikamaru. “Excuse me?” He’s splayed out across the floor in his entry way, staring up at Shikamaru as the indignation pops in his chest. The spaces between his ribs fill with anger instead.

“I said, let’s get cleaned up. Make sure nothing’s too bad.” Sasuke stares at him. It's strange how a few words can dismantle months of routine that they both had gotten so comfortable in. How easy it had been for Shikamaru to lure Sasuke into a false sense of security, before dropping this bomb on him.

Spurred on by pain and adrenaline, anger bursts from him easily. “What are you talking about? What the fuck do you think you’re here for?”

Shikamaru reaches down and pulls his pants back on. He leans against the door, nonchalant and easy. Sasuke wants to throttle him. This is nothing to be so casual about, nothing to be so lazy and self assured about. “No need to get your panties in a twist. Just thought you might like to work out all your aches and pains before we have some fun.”

Sasuke blinks at him. His fingers flex at his sides and Shikamaru’s eyes are immediately drawn to the action, and how Sasuke’s right hand can’t mirror his left. His gaze returns to Sasuke’s face, eyebrow quirking. “Listen, we’re still gonna fuck. And I’ll be gone before morning.” Sasuke looks away from him, jaw clenching. He’s placating him, Sasuke knows and hates him for it. “But my chest hurts like a bitch. And you need to tape your fingers.” 

Sasuke doesn’t look at him, gaze fuzzy where it's pointed at the wall. Nothing about this is normal. They fight, they fuck. End of story. Except now, Shikamaru’s trying to erase that line in the sand. “Not to mention how bad you smell.” Sasuke snorts and shakes his head. What a bastard. He sighs, jaw popping as it opens. 

“Yeah, whatever.” He can’t play it nearly as well as Shikamaru does, but he aims for something close to nonchalance as he rises to his feet and walks toward the bathroom. Shikamaru doesn’t care about anything, he’s lazy and uninterested in every pie his fingers are stuck in. Of course, the thought of seeing Sasuke naked with all the lights on doesn’t bother him--while the idea makes Sasuke sick. He flicks on the fluorescent lights and flinches away from his reflection. “Towels are in the closet.” Now Shikamaru knows where he keeps his linens, too.

Sasuke pretends like the thought doesn’t terrify him as he starts the water. He steps out of Shikamaru’s way as he starts on the buttons of his shirt. There are lines of dirt and blood under his nails, grime that smears over his white collared shirt. His fingers are clumsy and aching as he struggles to pop the buttons out of their holes. Another inconsequential annoyance that has his blood flaring hot in his veins. By the time Shikamaru’s naked and testing the temperature of the spray, Sasuke has only struggled out of three buttons. 

He knows Shikamaru is looking over his shoulder at him, but Sasuke resolutely ignores him as he tries to force the starched fabric of his shirt over the button. And then Shikamaru’s hands join his on his chest. Sasuke smacks the backs of his hands, and even moves to grab Shikamaru’s wrists, but his shirt is fully unbuttoned before he can shove him off. Sasuke bites his tongue as Shikamaru tugs his shirt out of his pants and undoes his slacks. He steps into the shower once he’s confident that Sasuke can finish undressing himself.

He stands there stiffly for a moment too long and Shikamaru scoffs at him. Sasuke grimaces and rips the rest of the clothing off. “What, you want to wipe my ass too?” He pulls the shower curtain closed and shoulders Shikamaru out from under the spray of hot water.

Shikamaru snorts. “You are one stubborn bastard.” Sasuke scratches his fingers through his scalp and spins to volley another insult at the equally stubborn bastard, only to be interrupted by Shikamaru squirting shampoo onto his head. He yelps and prompts another laugh from Shikamaru. He scowls and starts working the soap through his hair. Shikamaru pours a smaller amount into his palms and works it through his greasy hair. Suds drip down Sasuke’s forehead and his nose scrunches as he ducks under the water to wash it from his face. 

He pushes his hair away from his face with no intention of relinquishing the hot spray to Shikamaru. Before he can reach for the bar of soap, Shikamaru steps into his space. Any barbed insults are stolen off his tongue when he leans in for a kiss. Sasuke squawks, hands shoving at Shikamaru’s shoulders. He ignores the insistent shoving, of course, and licks into Sasuke’s mouth. Like he’s conditioned for it, Sasuke melts under the taste of smoke and blood on Shikamaru’s tongue. One moment he’s gripping Shikamaru’s shoulders, knees weakening at the slide of their lips, and the next he is shoved out from under the showerhead.

He whirls around to where Shikamaru’s washing the shampoo out of his hair, smirking and satisfied. Sasuke groans, “I should have kicked you out when I had the chance.”

Shikamaru just gives him a placating hum and rinses the last of the suds from his hair. “Hand me the soap.” Sasuke hands him the bar of soap without telling him where he should stick it.

Shikamaru lathers his hands with the bar and beckons Sasuke closer. Warily, he steps up to him, eyes half slitted against the spray of water reflecting off Shikamaru’s shoulders. “Turn around.” Sasuke doesn’t move. Shikamaru rolls his eyes and gestures up and down his body. “Look, no knife.” Against all his wishes, the corners of Sasuke’s mouth turn up. He schools his face back into a blank stare before turning around. Shikamaru’s warm hands meet his slick back, working soap over his muscles. His thumbs dig into the tender spots at his neck and the base of his spine, touches firm at the knots and soft at the bruises. With every scrape of Shikamaru’s calluses over his skin, he dismantles another part of Sasuke’s carefully cultivated defenses. His palms smooth down Sasuke’s arms, thumbs gentle over the backs of his hands.

“Lift your arms.” Sasuke obeys without even thinking of being petulant. Something twists in his stomach at the thought, winding even tighter as Shikamaru’s hands lather over his armpits and down his sides. This breed of intimacy doesn’t belong to them. His fingers tickle over Sasuke’s sore side, shifting to look at the purpling skin over his ribs. “You can still breathe, right?” Another smile drags over Sasuke’s face. At least this one is hidden.

“No popped lungs, don’t worry.”

Shikamaru reaches around him to wash his chest and belly, pressing close to Sasuke’s back. “You’re already bruising. Better safe than sorry.” Sasuke bites his tongue and stays silent as Shikamaru’s hands meet his hips. “Think you can wash your privates on your own?”

Sasuke snorts and jams his elbow into Shikamaru’s side. “Fuck off.” He laughs and ducks out of the way of the water. Sasuke lathers his hands before handing Shikamaru the soap again. He turns away from him to finish washing and rinse off. 

He turns back to Shikamaru as he scrapes the grime from beneath his softened nails. Through hooded eyes he watches him, pretending not to stare at the beads of water that collect on his chest and belly. Damn him for being so attractive. It’s only then that he notices Shikamaru is still bleeding. Lines of red mix with the water on his throat and run in steady rivers down his chest. It isn’t thick or very dark, but it's nothing like the injuries that Sasuke had sustained during their fight. He drops his act immediately and steps out of the water. Shikamaru shifts to step under the showerhead, but Sasuke stops him with a hand on his chest.

Shikamaru smirks. “Oh, are we getting started early?” Sasuke ignores him as he grabs his chin and wrenches his head to the side. Shikamaru relaxes into the grip, obliviously horny. Sasuke’s fingers probe up the line of his neck and into his hair. He finds the cut at the base of Shikamaru’s skull and his fingers come away dark with blood.

“I split your head open.”

Shikamaru’s brow furrows as Sasuke lets go of his face. “What?”

Sasuke wiggles his bloody fingers in front of Shikamaru’s face. “The skin split. When I hit you.” Shikamaru’s still looking at his bloody fingers. 

Instead of reacting as any normal person would, Shikamaru takes this as vindication. “See? We needed to get cleaned up before we fucked.” Sasuke rolls his eyes and lets Shikamaru rinse off. He steps out of the shower while Shikamaru finishes rinsing off and dries off quickly. His hair is a lost cause, but he tries to futz with it in the steamed up mirror, before curling the towel around his waist. He reaches up into the medicine cabinet and grabs the first aid kit.

He pops it open with one hand. All the supplies are half depleted and an unorganized mess. He examines his right hand, flexing his fingers and trying to figure out the problem. His middle finger is beginning to purple around the joints and can’t bend with the swelling, but everything else seems fine. Shikamaru turns off the water as Sasuke begins tearing strips of medical tape. He manages to get the correct length on his own. Taping his fingers together is more difficult, but he manages it as Shikamaru tucks his towel around his hips and grabs a roll of gauze from the kit.

Blood is already pooling in his collarbone and matting in his hair. He presses a wad of gauze into the wound and keeps pressure with his palm. Sasuke makes no comment as he examines his other aches. The right side of his ribcage is red and beginning to purple, but the swelling is minimal with little impact on his movement. A bruise settles around his nose and eyes after the strike to his face, and he feels around his nose at the break. It hadn’t been shifted out of place, and would probably heal fine, if he could deal with the pain and swelling.

Shikamaru is reaching for another wad of gauze by the time Sasuke is satisfied with his state of disrepair. The patch still held against his skull is soaked through with blood, and spots appear immediately on the fresh layer. Shikamaru isn’t looking at him, lips pursed against the pain as he tries to keep pressure correctly. Sasuke stares at him. He realizes he’s waiting for an invitation. He pulls the towel from his waist and wets it under the tap. He wipes the trails of blood from Shikamaru’s throat and swallows.

“Let me see.” His voice is softer than it has been all night as he grabs Shikmaru’s wrist. The pressure on his head goes slack and the gauze falls from his fingers. Sasuke reaches into the kit and rips open a cleaning cloth. He kneels beside Shikamaru and pushes his head to the side to get a better look. His dark hair is thick with blood and Sasuke carefully swipes the cloth over it. It comes back a wet red. Shikamaru sucks his teeth, fingers curling in his towel. Sasuke quickly cleans any dirt out of the cut before reaching for a larger gauze patch. He folds it many times, before pressing it firmly to the split. The wound itself is tiny, but the bleeding is insistent, speckling the white gauze in moments. Sasuke keeps steady pressure, adding more gauze any time it soaks through. It's probably the most patient he has been in months. 

Eventually, the gauze no longer saturates immediately. Sasuke relaxes the pressure on Shikamaru’s skull only barely, allowing him to move his head, but unwilling to pull the gauze away and break the clot. “Think you broke any of your fingers on my nose?” The tight purse of Shikamaru’s lips relaxes into something closer to a smile, and he flexes his fingers easily. “Show off.” 

That prompts a real laugh from him. “I just need some fucking pain killers.” Sasuke nods, pushing at his chin again to carefully peel the gauze from his cut. “And to get my dick wet.”

He reaches for a fresh piece of gauze and a wrap. “Keep talking like that and you’ll find yourself back on the street.” He presses the gauze into Shikamaru’s head, before positioning the wrap over it. “Hold it.” Their fingers bump together as Shikamaru holds onto the end. Sasuke wraps the fabric around his head and knocks his fingers out of the way to wrap it once more. He snips it and adjusts the wrap so it isn’t too tight, before tucking the end under. He reaches into the kit and manages to twist a bottle of aspirin open with two of his fingers taped together. Shikamaru extends his hand and Sasuke shakes four pills into his palm. He takes three of his own, before he places the bottle back in the kit and snaps it shut. 

He shoves the box back into the cabinet and Shikamaru’s fingers snag at his towel before he can step for the door. Silence drapes over them, warm against the cool caressing fingers of air. Sasuke takes a half step toward him, hand falling to Shikamaru’s shoulder as his hand grips firmer at his towel. It drops to the floor a second later, pooling around his feet. Shikamaru’s hands frame his hips, calluses catching on his skin as he tugs Sasuke between the splay of his knees. Under the fluorescent light in the bathroom with chills breaking out across his skin, and cool water dripping from his hair, Shikamaru’s hands feel right on him. No matter how much they diverge from their routine, there’s still some kind of solace in the grips Shikamaru holds on him and the kisses he lays into Sasuke’s navel.

His head tips back, the ends of his hair dragging wet lines over his throat. A tingling heat blooms in his belly, strings of it pulling taut across his skin as Shikamaru’s lips go soft against his skin. There’s something reverent in the touches, but Sasuke convinces himself it's simply his imagination as Shikamaru’s hands span across the backs of his thighs, fingers pressing hard into the curve of his ass. It's easier to ignore when he doesn’t look down at him. Looking down at Shikamaru would reveal the glint in his eyes, the flush that rides high on his cheeks, the stare of someone who fights and clings to whatever they can get.

Sasuke’s other hand falls to his shoulder, nails scraping over his clean skin as Shikamaru’s nose presses into his pubic hair, mouth parted on the base of his cock. Tingling heat shifts into burning pleasure, cock hardening against his cheek as Shikamaru kisses down his thigh. His hands grip the swell of Sasuke’s ass, kneading his flesh and urging his feet apart. Until his palms can skate down the insides of his thighs, rubbing over the soft hair there and then cupping the backs of Sasuke’s knees. It isn’t normal, but it's still Shikamaru. His hands slide up to the curve of Shikamaru’s neck, head falling forward as he tugs his mouth from his skin.

Shikamaru’s lips are reddened and slick. Sasuke’s fingers bump into the gauze, scratchy against the damp softness of Shikamaru’s hair. His eyes glimmer, lighter in the well lit room. Sasuke’s hand shifts to cup his jaw, thumb pressing against the curve of his chin, fingers framing the gauze where he bled. He leans down, eyes fluttering closed to avoid the stare that Shikamaru so effortlessly pins him with. Their mouths meet and heat spills between them. Their lips slide together, heads tilted to avoid noses bumping--its nothing like the violent clash from before. With no taste of blood but instead with an air of familiarity that clasps in a fist around Sasuke’s heart.

His grip loosens around Shikamaru’s face and he straightens. “Leave the towel.” He doesn’t bother to turn off the bathroom light as he crosses the hallway into his bedroom. Darkness curls around him, inviting and sweet, barely tainted by the buzzing action of the city outside his window. Shikamaru is at his back again, bare heat against Sasuke’s skin as he shoves the blankets from the bed. “Lay down.” Sasuke knows that the drag of Shikamaru’s fingers over the small of his back means he’s reluctant to part.

He sits back against the waiting pillows, legs splayed and shoulders relaxed as if he belongs there. At this point, it seems like he might. A distorted warm rectangle of light is thrown across the bed, casting Shikamaru’s chest into sharp contrast against the cool dark of his room. Sasuke’s glad for it, a soft guiding light that he follows as he crawls onto the bed and kneels over him. His hands trace over that light, remembering the curves of Shikamaru’s chest and hips, the cut of his muscle and the promise weighty on his lips. Sasuke grips the back of his neck as his hand falls to his cock.

Shikamaru’s head tilts back, crushing Sasuke’s fingers with a gasp as Sasuke strokes him. It's dry and too quick, but it doesn’t seem to matter when Sasuke is holding onto him, urging him to hardness. Nothing seems to matter in that moment as Sasuke touches his cock and reacquaints himself with the shift of Shikamaru’s shoulders and the vague part of his lips. He reaches for the lube, letting Shikamaru’s head smack against the headboard. His hiss of pain is satisfying in the same way that touching him was. An acknowledgement of why they’re here, how their relationship was built on pain. Sasuke knows how to touch him, because he knows how to hurt him.

He slicks his own fingers and reaches behind himself. Shikamaru watches through heavy eyes that glimmer in the low light. Sasuke can only look at them for so long before he feels split open. His chin hits his chest as he fucks two fingers inside himself. It burns in sharp counterpoint to his bone deep aches and pains. He pushes into it, twisting the digits rudely as he ruts against Shikamaru’s belly.

Shikamaru doesn’t do anything to usher him on. He just watches with his fingers curled loosely around his cock. Even when Sasuke doesn’t look at him, his gaze is piercing and hot over his skin. He ignores it, bites his tongue and screws a third finger inside himself. Despite his best efforts, a little pained grunt wiggles out from between his teeth. Two wet fingers land on his hip and his gaze snaps back up to Shikamaru’s face. He doesn’t look particularly worried, but he strokes at Sasuke’s skin with a disconcerting gentleness. “Take it easy.”

Sasuke scoffs and pointedly ignores him by tugging his fingers free and slicking Shikamaru’s cock. “Shut up.” Shikamaru looks about ready to argue, until Sasuke starts sinking down on his cock. It burns and tangles somewhere in his belly with a sort of ache that makes his toes curl. He’s forced to take it easy then, sucking in tight little breaths as he rocks himself down on Shikamaru’s thick length. He holds Sasuke’s hips all the while, watching him with those eyes and an unfair kind of silence.

Sasuke sits himself in Shikamaru’s lap and lets out one long hiss, head tilting back as he rocks himself into the overwhelming stretch. “You feel good,” Shikamaru grits out and Sasuke laughs breathlessly.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were going soft on me.” Shikamaru’s lack of response digs in between his ribs. It’s the kind of fear that makes his mouth dry as he starts riding him too quickly. He’s barely adjusted, the swollen clench of his hole around Shikamaru’s cock is much too tight to be comfortable, but he doesn’t care. He’s restless and uncoordinated as he raises himself up onto sore thighs, hands braced on Shikamaru’s belly as he starts bouncing.

Shikamaru holds his tongue as Sasuke’s face pinches with pain, chin on his chest as he finally finds his rhythm. He swivels his hips until Shikamaru’s cock is grinding against that perfect spot inside him and hisses. The pleasure peaks and he melts, groaning as the insistent stretch of Shikamaru inside of him finally becomes satisfying. Shikamaru holds onto his hips, but doesn’t try to dictate his pace--and for a long moment, Sasuke gets lost in it. His thighs shake and his hips ache, but his cock drips where it bounces on his belly, desire rolling through him as sweat drips down the bridge of his nose.

Shikamaru’s rough palms stroke up his hips, framing the slim curve of his waist between his palms. Sasuke shivers for him, head tilting and back arching as he grinds indulgently on his cock. Shikamaru thumbs over his navel, a little moan shivers out from between his lips, and suddenly Sasuke feels like he’s being pulled apart at the seams. He fucks himself harder on Shikamaru’s cock, mouth falling open as he pants. Shikamaru touches him indulgently, scratching through the fine hair on his navel before his fingers curl around his cock. “You’re beautiful,” Shikamaru says it so softly, Sasuke can almost convince himself that he didn’t hear it at all. 

He shakes his head, falling out of his rhythm as he sucks in a deep breath. “Stop.” He hasn’t looked away from the ceiling, but he knows Shikamaru’s eyes are on him. In that moment, the stroke of his gaze makes him feel vile. “Just stop it,” he hisses, head tipping forward as he leans over Shikamaru. Their eyes meet with a fire that threatens to scorch them both.

“Stop what?” Sasuke stares down at him, searching for the quirk of his lips or the sparkle in his eyes. It doesn’t appear. If anything, it only makes Sasuke angrier. The thought that Shikamaru doesn’t know what he’s doing, that he just thinks this is normal, that this is okay--

Sasuke lunges forward and wraps his hand around Shikamaru’s throat. His fingers twinge and he ignores them, squeezing the sides of his neck as his weight presses into his trachea. Shikamaru’s stare widens, his hands dropping away from Sasuke’s body as his lips form a pretty little O. He’s flushing again, like he did earlier in the night, bruised and bloodied and gasping under Sasuke’s hand again. He squeezes harder and rolls his hips once, just to see the flicker of desire pass over Shikamaru’s features. “Stop it,” he repeats again, as he realizes he doesn’t have anything else to say. Shikamaru stares and stares, face getting redder and redder as Sasuke rides him languidly. Slowly, as if moving through molasses, he reaches up to grip Sasuke’s wrist--calm and steady and steely as his eyes on Sasuke’s.

He lets go, but doesn’t move his hand away from Shikamaru’s throat. “Yeah,” he murmurs, head tilting forward again. “Yeah, fuck.” He grinds on Shikamaru’s cock, somehow finding his rhythm again as he reaches for his own dick. It feels better now as Sasuke rocks between his own fist and Shikamaru’s cock, better without those too gentle roaming hands. 

His thumb rubs over the slippery head and his cock drips into his palm. Sasuke sighs, bouncing in Shikamaru’s lap as he jerks himself off slowly. His sweaty hand slips on Shikamaru’s throat, and he’s about to pull away when the grip tightens around it. His head tips forward, eyes half lidded as he stares back down at Shikamaru. His chest is flushed a pretty pink and beaded with sweat. As he watches, he lifts his other hand until both are curled around Sauke’s arm. “Again,” he demands.

Sasuke swears and curls his fingers around the base of his cock, holding off the scorching orgasm that bubbles in his veins. He clenches his hand around Shikamaru’s throat at the same time, squeezing around his cock as he forces his breath to go thready and weak. Shikamaru’s mouth gapes again, eyes rolling back behind his veiny eyelids as his grip tightens on Sasuke. He rubs the head of his cock again, unable to hold back his whine as he rolls his hips again. He counts to fifteen and eases his weight off of Shikamaru’s throat.

He gasps, lips almost purple as he sucks in oxygen, spittle on his chin as he stares wildly up at Sasuke. He doesn’t have to demand this time. Sasuke cuts off his air without being told, leaning into Shikamaru until he’s sure that his hand will leave purple in its wake. His hand is wet around his aching cock and he rocks his hips until Shikamaru is grinding against his prostate again. And this time, when the scorching orgasm bubbles up in his veins--he doesn’t stop it. He fucks himself on Shikamaru’s cock like he wants it to hurt and digs the tip of his thumb into his slit.

Sasuke cums with a quaking little cry, his spend streaking across Shikamaru’s chest as he finally loosens his grip. Heat spills inside of him with the first desperate breath that Shikamaru sucks in, chest shuddering under the layer of Sasuke’s cum as Shikamaru claws at his forearm and bucks wildly under him. Sasuke eases his hand off of Shikamaru’s throat, but finds himself unable to look away from his reddening skin as his softening cock slips free.

He’s aching deep inside as Shikamaru’s seed drips stickily out of him. For the moment, Sasuke can ignore it. He rolls off Shikamaru’s lap and sprawls on the mattress, eyes barely open as the sweat starts drying on his skin. Sleep lays heavy over his eyes, but he holds it off for the moment as he waits for Shikamaru to leave. But, he doesn’t. He doesn’t roll toward Sasuke or put his arms around him--he doesn’t even bother to get under the dirty comforter. He just lays beside Sasuke, his panting breath going deep and low with exhaustion.

Sasuke turns and stares at the outline of his profile. He’s still awake and Sasuke could force him out. He stares at the part of Shikamaru’s lips and listens to his soft breathing. He doesn’t make him leave. Instead, he waits and watches, until he can be sure that Shikamaru is asleep. He waits until his breathing is deep and somnolent, until the restless shifting of his fingers falls still. Then, he scoots close and carefully wraps his arm around Shikamaru’s middle. He rests his head on Shikamaru’s shoulder and finally lets his eyes shut. He forces his breathing into sync with Shikamaru’s and finds sleep easily. 


End file.
